


Life as We Know It

by Ending_Daley



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Lucy here reporting for clawen trash duty, Nothing serious, this should be fluffy, with a small mix of 'oh my god what the fuck are we doing' angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ending_Daley/pseuds/Ending_Daley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Owen become caregivers for an orphaned girl when their mutual best friends die in a car accident. </p><p>Life as We Know It AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life as We Know It

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash

2012

Claire Dearing huffed at her reflection, smiling slightly as she over analysed every minute detail. She was anxious, slightly worried, slightly scared. She didn’t do blind dates, she didn’t sign herself up for things without knowing the basic ins and outs. Alison promised her it would be alright, Owen was a good guy, a little rough around the edges, but manageable. Claire would like him, or in the least, enjoy the challenge.

She did a once over in the mirror. Lipstick perfect, eyeliner straight, even, hair sophisticatedly laid-back. Her dress was immaculate, smooth black fabric, wrapped around her waist, hugging her curves.

Slipping on her shoes, she glanced a look at the clock. He was ten minutes late. She sighed, eyes coasting over her appearance one last time before surrendering herself to the armchair. He would turn up, he would.

Claire watched the clock tick, her patience wearing thin as minutes multiplied in front of her. Ten minutes became twenty, became thirty, became forty. He was an hour late.

She kicked her shoes off, leaving them sitting beside the door, her make up had faded slightly on her cheeks, where she had sat, head in her hands, in wait. She sat, head resting on her hand, small pout on her lips. She should have known better than to trust Alison and a blind date.

She pulled herself up, out of the chair, determined not to pace. There was no use, he’d clearly blown her off. Her night could have been better spent in a bubble bath, glass of red wine in her hand, the newest best seller beside her, waiting to be read.

That was it, Claire decided, she wouldn’t wait for him any longer, Alison was clearly wrong. Sighing for the tenth time in the last hour, her eyes skipping towards the clock, Claire gave up. She was unzipping her dress, feet pulling her towards the bathroom, bath in mind, when someone knocked at the door.

Claire considered ignoring it, knowing if it was her date that she would only be mildly annoyed with him. Curiosity bought into her defiance, fighting back, bringing down her walls. She pulled the door open as her guest knocked obnoxiously for a second time.

Blue eyes smiled at her through tan skin and dirty blond hair, ’You’re Claire, right? Alison’s friend?’ His grin grew broader when she nodded slowly. ‘Owen Grady,’ he introduced, flashing teeth in an attempt to charm.

‘You’re an hour late,’ Claire huffed, tempted to shut the door in his face. Owen shrugged his shoulders, hands sliding into the pockets of his pants. Claire’s eyes grew wide, shock horror popping her mouth open. ‘You’re wearing board shorts!’

His smile didn’t falter, nor did the wave of cocky confidence retreat. ‘Look, I’m sorry. But, I’m here now, aren’t I?’ She wanted to prattle off about first impressions, how important are - specifically for dates. Alison hoped that she could find a potential partner, someone to drag along to company events, family dinners - a companion, not another easy lay. Owen was already ticking all the wrong boxes.

‘We were supposed to leave here by quarter past seven. It was the only way to insure proper introduction without arriving at the restaurant too early.’ Owen’s eyes crinkled, smile shifting to something more smug than honest.

‘What? Do you have an itinerary or something?’ His response was smart, full of humour, more the bully than the boyfriend.

Claire huffed, hands jetting out to smooth her dress, ‘It’s best to be prepared’. Owen bent at the waist, a hand gesturing to the hallway of her building, asking her gently if they should go. She wanted to say no, to close the door and continue her night alone. She couldn’t find the heart, more for Alison than Owen. At least if their date went belly up she had a far excuse to never listen to Alison or Peter’s attempts at setting her up, ever again.

‘Where’s your car?’ Claire asked, slightly worried as they stepped out onto the empty street. She lived in a good neighbourhood, or so she had thought. There was no rhyme or reason behind his car being stolen. She had been wrong before. Owen cleared his throat, two steps behind her, helmet in his hand as he stood beside a motorbike. ‘Oh no, not happening’. She pointed at his bike with a delicate finger.

Who the hell was this guy? Board shorts, bad timing, motorbikes. And, he was laughing, at her, specifically her response to his outrageous behaviour. ‘We’re going to have to take my car,’ she said, fishing for her keys in her purse. Owen agreed easily, following the sound of her clacking heels down the street and to her car.

‘So, where are we going?’ She asked pulling a seatbelt over her shoulder. Owen stared at her from the passenger seat of her car, eyes blank. ‘Where did you make reservations?’ He only blinked, slightly nervous. ‘You didn’t make them, did you?’ Owen shook his head. Claire faltered slightly, taking a second before she collected herself. ‘You know what? That’s fine, we can go anywhere.’ She started to ramble, listing off restaurants she enjoyed, ones she hadn’t been too, and the ones she wouldn’t dare step a foot in ever again. Owen’s phone, obnoxiously rang from his pants pocket. She didn’t quite catch the song, but knew enough that it was slightly derogatory. His phone interrupted her, stopping Claire mid sentence. ‘Are you going to get that?’

‘Oh, what? Nah, it’ll go to voicemail.’ He brushed it aside, letting the phone ring in his pocket. Claire opened her mouth to speak again, the perfect restaurant in mind, the sound of his phone, however, kept putting her off.

‘Just answer it.’

He did, leaning a little closer to the door as he laughed at whomever was on the other end of the line. ‘Yeah, yeah, okay. 11?’ Owen asked, ignoring Claire sitting next to him. He hesitated, listening before speaking again. ‘Why don’t we make it 10:30?’ He hung up, making a quick apology to Claire, his supposed date. She was fuming, cheeks red, steam possibly drifting from her ears.

‘You know, we don’t have to do this.’ Claire huffed, disbelief dancing on her tongue. Alison had told her Owen was a little rough around the edges, she really didn’t expect this. Owen, instantly, felt left off the hook, unbuckling his seatbelt he moved to open the door. ‘Are you serious?’ He kept getting better and better, like fine wine that aged well, before it spoiled, turning into vinegar.

‘Let’s be honest, you knew from the moment you saw me that you didn’t like me.’ Owen argued, he was late, she already commented on that mostly perturbed. His bike didn’t help.

Claire shook her head, ‘But our mutual friends set this up, so I think we owe it to them to -‘

‘To what, spend a few hours faking small talk? Look, best case, we get drunk and we hook up.’ The grin on his face was enough to steer Claire towards murder.

‘What kind of asshole are you?’ She couldn’t help the laugh, anxiety getting to her, disbelief clinging to every word. He was remarkably stupid. ‘If you wanted to ensure that this wasn’t going to be a lousy night, here’s a tip: don’t show up an hour late, and don’t make a booty call in front of me.’

Owen opened his mouth to defend himself, but stopped. ‘If you wanna go out, we’ll go out.’ Since she seemed hellbent on still going out in order to appease their friends, Owen was ready to forfeit.

‘Oh my god, no. I’m not going out with you now. What are you, crazy?’ Her seatbelt was off, her hand on the door, opening it. ‘Get out of my car.’ Owen complied, climbing out, shutting the door, watching her storm off, phone in her hand. ‘I don’t know what they were thinking!’ She called back over her shoulder, pensive frustration rolling across her words as her heels clicked on the sidewalk.

Owen hummed, knowing she hadn’t heard him before he climbed back on his bike and started the engine. She was already stepping through the front door of her building, phone pressed to her ear, ‘The only way you can make this up to me … is if you promise I never have to see him again.’

It wasn’t as simple as that.

Owen Grady became a common fixture in Claire’s life where it concerned her friends. He was there for everything, screwing it up in some hot-shot bachelor way. Fondling waitresses at Peter and Alison’s engagement party - effectively ruining her speech, and then completely interrupting her. He was particularly handsy with the bridesmaid’s at their wedding, squeezing her ass as the photographer tried to get at least one decent photo of the wedding party.

Claire Dearing couldn’t seem to shake Owen Grady from her life.

And then along came Sophie.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to update this periodically - hopefully I can do a prompt, a chapter, a prompt, a chapter ... and so on. 
> 
> Don't be afraid to let me know what you think!  
> Lucy


End file.
